Days 28 – 33 June 16 – 21 A Respite from Roughing It

The perfect loaf of bread - baked by Sally and Mike

I arrived at my sister’s house early on Sunday morning. I didn’t realize, when I got there, how exhausted I was and that I had come down with a cold. I ended up staying for almost a week, leaving the next Saturday morning.

The week at my sister’s was indeed exactly what I needed. She cooked for me, gave me a bed to sleep in, and provided much needed love and support. I don’t get to see Sally very often, but it is always so good to catch up. She is the ultimate hostess and entertains often, and her food is legendary. Her house is warm and welcoming.

Sally's neighbor is a fisherman - these are from his stash

 During my week there, I enjoyed visiting some with her husband, Mike, who left after a few days for his yearly visit to Montana and Custer’s battlefield, spent some time with her son, Harrison, who was transitioning between an old apartment and a new house and between jobs, bonded with her dog, Tank, and met many of her friends at a party she threw for an old co-worker.

Tank's such a good boy! Saying goodbye - he looks so sad!

Tank and I lounging on the sofa

Sally also secured an appointment with her podiatrist, who had me buy a sleeve for my foot to wear under my socks, and I bought new boots at REI. Hopefully my foot will be 100 percent before I begin the JMT, and if not that, close enough not to hinder my hike. The fear that I would not be able to do the hike began to nudge itself into my consciousness when the pain was strong, but fortunately, the pain is getting better every day, so I should be ready to go.

On a walk up my sister's lane

Tank, the 100-pound lap dog

It was a full, relaxing, and fun week, and it was hard to leave. After sleeping in a climate controlled room with a bed I could stretch out in and a bathroom around the corner, it was difficult to get too excited about the tent life. I love to camp in my little tent, and I love sleeping outside, but even I can get filled up with the experience. Maybe too much of a good thing is indeed too much. If I learn that from this summer, that will be a very big lesson for this addictive personality.

 

My sister's beautiful house

I realized the longer I stayed at Sally’s, the harder it got to leave. The battle between the “rock” and the “soft spot” began tilting toward the soft spot. All that comfort and ease is certainly enjoyable, and it is also much more familiar. But I knew it was time to move on. Like my mother used to say, “Guests are like fish; both need to go out before they begin to stink.” So it was time for me to go. Besides, I could feel myself getting soft. And soft is not what I need to be when I hike the John Muir Trail.